If You're Freaky and You Know It
by William Easley
Summary: While on Spring Break of their senior year, Dipper and Mabel ponder ways of earning money for college. And Wendy has a suggestion. Not in my usual GF continuity, this one-shot was written for Wendip Week 2019 from Prompt 7, "I guess we're both freaks."


_I do not own the show GRAVITY FALLS or any of the characters; both are the property of the Walt Disney Company and of Alex Hirsch. I make no money from these stories but write just for fun and in the hope that other fans enjoy reading them. I will ask, please, do not copy my stories elsewhere on the Internet. I work hard on these, and they mean a lot to me. Thank you._

* * *

_This is not in my normal Gravity Falls continuity, but is a story written for Wendip Week 2019 from Prompt 7, "Hey, I guess we're both freaks."_

* * *

**If You're Freaky and You Know It . . . **

_Yeah, when we were kids, Poindexter was the brilliant one in the family. Me, I was good for a laugh, you know. Always up to somethin'. And most of the time, me and Ford hung out together. See, he was so brainy, he didn't have many friends. Any friends, I guess._

_There was the deal of his hands, too, you know. Twelve fingers! Jeeze, the names the kids called him. "Freak" was about the mildest. But him and me, we were inseparable, at least up till we were seniors in high school. Then—but you know how it all blew up. Anyways, after he had his little accident and vanished off the face of the Earth, and I had to discover some way, any way, of finding him and bringin' him back, that's when I learned I could scam people._

_Naw, that's not right. Let me rephrase that. Not scam. Entertain people. Fool 'em but make 'em laugh at bein' fooled! Yeah, that's it. Like a magician. Not everybody can do that, you know. Takes a special kind of gift. A warped mind don't hurt, either! Yeah, long before I fixed that Portal—and that took lots of doin', believe me, I had to practically give myself a college education to learn how—long time before I finished that little job, I realized that Brainiac and me had something in common. We're both freaks!_

* * *

Mabel switched off the voice recorder. "Now," she said, "how do I put that in my scholarship application essay and not give away our Grunkles' biggest secrets?"

"That's a mystery," Dipper said.

It was spring break of their senior year, and the twins had persuaded their parents to let them drive up to Gravity Falls as a sort of retreat. They'd received acceptances from their colleges of choice already, but now both of them were scrambling to pick up scholarships to ease the burden of loans. Mabel's college awarded scholarships in creativity—but part of the application was to write an essay, and her choice of topic was "My most interesting relative."

"Yeah, yeah," Mabel grumbled. "Thanks for telling me. I wouldn't have guessed! There must be some way of describing Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford without spilling the paranormal beans! Huh. Do you suppose those were the kind of beans Jack swapped the cow for?"

"No idea," Dipper said.

"What are you getting all dressed up for?" Mabel asked suspiciously. "As if I couldn't guess! You're not working on scholarship applications at all! You got a date with Wendy!"

"Not a date date," Dipper corrected. "We're doing the same thing you are—trying to figure out ways of earning a little extra cash for college."

"If you find any, let me know," Mabel muttered. "Let me see: My Freaky Family. How's that sound?"

"Like a Disney TV show," Dipper said.

"Huh. Maybe I can go into the television industry. Maybe I don't even need college!"

"Don't count on that," Dipper said. "All the best TV people go to CalArts. See you later!"

"Hey, Dip, if you run into Blendin Blandin, ask him if I can borrow his time tape. I'm gonna need like an extra month to figure out how to write this darned essay."

"We haven't seen him for six years, but if Wendy and I run across him, I'll remember." A horn honked outside the Shack. "Gotta run!"

* * *

Dipper's own choice of college was CalTech—similar to Mabel's only in that they both began with "Cal." His was actually much more expensive than hers. Their parents were helping, but—well, there was just so much money in the Pines family budget, and though both kids had college savings accounts, it was going to be a hard push to make that last for four whole years.

Wendy kissed him as he got into the car. "Tell me about your idea," he said.

"Well, dude, it's really more my dad's idea," she said. "I'll show you."

She drove them to a little crossroads place—Gravity Falls was the only town of any size (and it was small) in the whole Valley, but the village of Glen Rapids also counted as an unincorporated village. Technically, it wasn't inside the Valley or in the weirdness field—just barely outside both, though barely inside Roadkill County, and a vacation community for visitors to the Willamette National Forest.

Wendy pulled up in front of a run-down looking cottage. "Here we go, Dip. Let's go see our dream house."

More like nightmare house, he thought. The place must have stood vacant for years. The windows facing away from the highway had all been boarded up. The ones facing forward were bleared with dirt, many panes cracked or broken. Streaks on the walls showed that the roof had leaked. Vandals or thieves had ripped copper wiring right out of the walls.

"It's a mess," he told her after they had gone through the six rooms—living room, kitchen/dinette, two bedrooms, den, and spare room, with one and a half bathrooms snugged in.

"That's the beauty part," Wendy said. "The worse it is, the cheaper it is. Dad can pick this up for only a couple thousand, 'cause the inspectors thought that the only thing that would improve it would be tearing it down."

"Two thousand?" Dipper asked. "Really?"

"Yeah, man. 'Cause it's not only run-down ugly, it's haunted."

"So this summer, you and I—"

"Will get rid of the ghost—that's your job—and then we'll completely remodel everything. Dad will supply the materials, we'll put in the labor. Dad's got two guys for the plumbing and wiring, so that's not on us. You and me—you ever reshingled a roof?"

"Half of the Shack roof," Dipper said, remembering. "In a hundred and five degree heat!"

"Ever put in drywall?"

"What's drywall?"

Wendy laughed and punched his shoulder. "You'll learn! And I know you can paint!"

"Not glitter paint, I hope!" Dipper said. He remembered when Grunkle Stan had them all up on the roof turning the Mystery Shack sign into a hot-pink glitterfest.

"Don't think so. OK, so there's some bad flooring we'll replace. There's some structural repairs to be done to joists. Once we get the attic up to code, we'll put in some insulation. Job will take all summer—"

"Just you and me?"

"You, me, and the ghost," Wendy said. "Dad will sell the place—he's done a bunch of these for a guy who owns lots of rental properties—for at least a hundred thou. He'll clear at least fifty thousand profit, and he'll split that with us fifty-fifty."

"You mean fifty, twenty-five, twenty-five," Dipper said.

"Well—he's probably gonna notice when we get married, and anyway it comes out the same. So—you game for earning part of your tuition with some hard work?"

They walked through again, inspecting. Dipper pointed out sections of the framing damaged by leaks. Wendy told him what would have to be done to fix them. They went up to the attic—a mess. Squirrels had colonized it. "We'll have to seal up all the cracks and make sure they can't get in the walls and come up that way."

By the time they finished their tour—four hours—Dipper said, "Let's give it a shot."

"That's my man!" Wendy said.

He glowed.

But there was one more thing . . . .

* * *

That night after dark, Dipper and Wendy sat on the bare floor in the cottage living room, a candle in a holder providing the only light. Dipper said, "OK, ghost, we know you're here. We could do some stupid incantation, but we don't need that, do we? Appear to us and let's just talk."

"Don't be afraid, dude!" Wendy added.

"Look at the candle," Dipper said.

It burned with a blue flame.

"That a sign of ghosts?"

"Classic," Dipper said. He raised his voice: "Where are you?"

Something scratched in the walls. Then heavy footsteps tromped across the attic. Something screamed like a little girl in terror.

Everything fell silent. "Pretty good," Dipper said. "But really, just manifest and let's talk."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Wendy said, "Dude, behind you, in the doorway to the kitchen."

Dipper swiveled partway around. Squinting, he wondered if it was just a trick of the candle flame and shadows—no, a dark mass was rising from the floor, a hulking sort of form. Two red sparks flickered. Eyes. "Get out!" barked a voice. If a gorilla could speak, it would sound like that.

"Don't be like that," Dipper said. "Come on. Do you like this house being such a messy wreck?"

Seconds passed.

Then—"Oh, very well."

A slight, transparent figure formed, glowing a pale blue. "You live people are just so—so irritating!" the ghostly man said. "Coming into my house—"

"Dude, sorry to break this to you, but the house is derelict," Wendy said. "You're dead."

"I know." Now that he had formed, he was not a fearsome apparition at all—a short, slight, bald man with a receding chin and round glasses and wearing trousers, a shirt with no tie, and a vest.

"Come on in," Dipper said kindly. "Let's just have a friendly talk. What's your name?"

"You wouldn't believe it."

"Try us," Wendy said.

The ghost sighed a ghostly sighed. "Casper," he said. "Casper McQuillock. Go ahead, make a joke about Casper the ghost."

"Just a coincidence," Dipper said. "Nothing to joke about. Uh, when did you—pass over?"

"Over what? Oh, you mean when did I die? I'm not sure. Time is so different for the living impaired."

"What's the last big news item you remember?" Wendy prompted.

"Um—Truman beat Dewey. I think that was it. Yes, I'm positive. I had my fatal stroke a few days later. I regret that, because I'm a Democrat."

Dipper said, "So—I think that was like 1947 or 48? You've been here a long time!"

"Yes," the little man said sadly. "I died one morning while getting dressed in the next room over. It was our bedroom."

"You were married!" Wendy exclaimed.

"Ruby Nelle," Mr. McQuillock said, his voiced ripe with regret and yearning. "She died about a year before I did. I prayed we'd meet again, but I guess I wasn't good enough. She's in Heaven, I hope, and here I am stuck in Oregon."

"You can go join her," Dipper said.

"I don't know how."

"This is Dipper, and I'm Wendy," she said. "Listen to him. He's young, but he knows all about ghosts."

"You probably know more than I do," Mr. McQuillock murmured. "I'm a failure as a ghost. I don't even know why I'm still here."

"Usually," Dipper said, "it's because a person's left something unfinished."

"I can't think what that would be," the ghost said. "Ruby Nelle and I always wanted to have children, but we couldn't, and now we're both beyond that. Couldn't be my lacking a family. Still, it's a shame. I built this house all by myself so we'd have a place to raise a family—and we only had each other."

"You built the house?" Wendy asked. "You did a good job, Mr. McQ! I mean, it's in bad shape, but I can tell you put a lot of work into it. A lot of love."

"I loved Ruby Nelle very much." After a moment, he added, "Do you suppose—it's silly, but—oh, never mind."

"No, what?" Dipper asked.

"Well—the room at the back of the house, adjoining our bedroom. It was supposed to be for our children. Or child. But the day we found out for sure that we couldn't have children—I just put away my tools. That's the one room I never finished."

Wendy said, "Oh, that's so sad." She thought for a moment. "Listen—let us finish it for you! We're gonna fix the place up this summer—"

"What season is it now?"

"Spring," Dipper said. He told him the year.

"I've wasted so much time," Mr. McQuillock said. "I've been a ghost longer than I was alive. I had no idea."

"Think about finishing up that children's room," Wendy said. "Think hard."

For a moment Mr. McQuillock's ghostly form faded, but then it glowed brighter. "Why—that's—did you see that?"

"What?" Dipper asked.

"That bright light! It was so beautiful! And did you hear?"

Wendy said, "Sorry. I think the light and whatever you heard were just for you."

"I heard Ruby Nelle calling my name! 'Cappy,' she said. 'Cappy, trust them.' She always called me Cappy."

"Let's make a deal," Dipper said.

* * *

Before the midnight hour struck—well, it didn't, there were no clocks in the house, but midnight came—Casper McQuillock was so excited he looked semi-solid. "Agreed!" he said. "We'll meet in June. Just call my name—you can even call me Cappy!—and I'll appear. We'll plan out everything! I can't handle tools, but I can sure give you some ideas. We'll have this place fixed up so nice that—that some lucky family—you know, I can already feel Earth loosening its hold on me. Can we do the children's room first?"

"Absolutely," Wendy said. "We promise."

"Because then, once it's done—I'm going to go see my Ruby Nelle again. I know I am!"

* * *

Wendy and Dipper didn't get back to the Shack until close to one A.M. The lights were on in the dining room, and they found Mabel there at the table, pounding away on Dipper's laptop. "Hi!" she said. "Dipper, I got it! Inspiration struck! I listened to our Grunkles' oral histories again, and—here, read this."

* * *

_Every family is special, and my family's the same as all the rest. That isn't as paradoxical as you might think. Bear with me and I'll explain by telling how my two favorite relatives, my great-uncle Stanley and his brother, my great-uncle Stanford, have come to mean so much to me. Like my brother and me, they are twins. And like my brother and me, they're opposites. Stanley is a master entertainer with a deep understanding of people. Stanford is a brilliant scientist with a deep understanding of how the universe works. And whenever they're in the same room, they're quarreling and complaining and having the time of their lives. I love them both because they've taught me the most important lesson in life: You don't have to like someone to love them._

* * *

"Great start, Mabel," Dipper said.

She yawned. "Gonna go to bed in a little while. Just want to get this page done first. You two look happy."

"We figured out a way to make some money," Dipper said. "Plus we figured out a way to reunite a dead guy with his dead wife."

"You freaks!" Mabel said, laughing. "A ghost, huh? Sorry I missed that!"

"You can still meet him, Mabes," Wendy said. "Come up this summer and help us design a dream home."

"For when you get married?"

"No, not us," Dipper said. "For some lucky couple we don't know and haven't met yet. But your artistic touch would be—"

"Say no more. I'll be there."

* * *

Dipper walked Wendy out to her car. "You awake enough to drive home?" he asked.

"I'll be fine. Just two, three miles."

"Be careful," he said. "For me."

"And for poor Mr. McQ. And for Mabel. And for the kids you and I might just have one day." She kissed him. "Good night, my freak."

"Good night, my beautiful, wonderful freak."

They kissed once more under the stars and he went in and she went home, just two happy freaks so deep in love they were in way over their heads and enjoying the feeling with every second and every heartbeat.

* * *

The End

* * *

_And that puts a lid on Wendip Week 2019 for me! Next we'll go back to our regularly scheduled AU and dive back into Dipper and Mabel's last summer in Gravity Falls._


End file.
